


Do I Wanna Know?

by font_romantic



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - mafiatale, Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Female!Reader - Freeform, Fluff and Smut, Gun Violence, I guess..., I'm new to this!, Love Bites, Magic, Mild Gore, Monsters Aboveground, Nothing too explicit, POV Second Person, Possible Romance, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader gets shot in the shoulder and there is mention of it throughout, Rough Kissing, Skeleton Boyfriends, Smoking, lots of licking, or tags, so please excuse any errors in script, this is my first work in this fandom and on AO3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-02 17:05:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11513700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/font_romantic/pseuds/font_romantic
Summary: Reader is a bob-haired reporter from the 1920s. Straight laced and eager at one point, you've turned to the darker side of life in New York and have found yourself immersed in the seedy underbelly of mafia controlled streets for one reason and one reason alone- Sans the Skeleton. He came into your life on a threat and made himself a regular, now you're drawn to him in the most dangerous of ways and you honestly don't know why.You guess the real question at the end of all of this is: do you wanna know?





	1. Aces up Your Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

> First fic exploring the world of Mafiatale! It might be a bit different from the usual elements, but the whole 1920s mobster vibe is still there! Feel free to let me know how I did. I know my writing is a bit rusty, so you're likely gonna see a lot of mistakes, but I wanted to indulge myself and test the waters to see if I want to do a series in this AU alongside another fic I'm writing.
> 
> Hope you like it!
> 
> P.S. yes, I listened to a lot of Arctic Monkeys while I was writing this.

Lying on the ground, your hands tied and your feet bound, gave you a lot of time to think back on your life leading up to this moment. You were still pretty young for a human, twenty-three and counting with the mentality of an eighteen year old- or was that an eight year old, you couldn’t decide, but whichever was the more naive of the two you were pretty sure was the right answer. Sighing, you feel the cloth warm beneath your breath and all of a sudden you were just that much more aware of your bindings and how uncomfortable they were making you.

“Hhnff…” you scoff against your gag and roll your eyes. Like comfort was what really mattered at that point, you were probably going to be dead in a few hours. You should have honestly been more concerned about that, but you’re not. Not a stranger to danger and the likelihood of your own demise, you’ve developed an unfortunate aversion to care. So in moments like these, where anyone else would be writhing in an attempt to get away, you just laid there. Thinking. Waiting. It didn’t take long for your patience to be rewarded as the door at your back opened and you felt yourself tilting you head slightly in an attempt to see who might be there. You could almost feel the light from the other room filtering over you as a short scuffling of shoes against concrete could be heard from the space of the door and that familiar scent began to overwhelm you.

“...we’ve gotta stop meetin’ like this, dollface,” your entire body went rigid as he spoke. Sans, the skeleton mobster and the one you’d been dying to see again. Ha, funny. If you could talk you’d probably had said something along the same lines and gotten a laugh out of him. You always loved it when he laughed, “you’s two...get ‘er up.”

At this point, you’ve stopped trying to get a glance at him. The pain in your joints and the effort it would require for you to turn over was just too much, besides, you could hear more shuffling from behind you as two pairs of feet approached your contained form. You’d be seeing him soon enough. You could feel rough hands on your body now, tugging you back and eliciting a series of low grunts from your gagged mouth as the pain in your shoulder became much more apparent to you. Had things really been that close? Thinking back, you could remember running, the climb, a shot in the dark, the pain in your arm as your grip betrayed you and you fell back- yeah, you really needed to start working on that whole care thing. As a reporter, you had always felt it necessary to get to the bottom of things. Whether that be sneaking into an old warehouse or hiding in a dumpster for twenty-four hours you really didn’t care. As long as you got your story it didn’t matter. But now- now you were starting to see what really mattered and, boy, did it hurt. 

Biting against the fabric in your mouth, you closed your eyes as they lifted you from the ground, one at your shoulders while the other held onto your feet. You felt like an old carpet and wondered if you’d get the same type of beating.

“careful,” you could hear his voice again and it prompted you to open your eyes, “she might not be family, but i’ve got stock in ‘er. can’t have you goons ruinin’ my method.”

Right. You were dirty. Corrupt, straight down to the bone. Ha. Ha, another funny. Wow, for someone who couldn’t speak you were definitely on a roll tonight. You’d been hanging out with this guy way too much. You stared pointedly at him as the two goons hefted you out of the room, your eyes hardly adjusted to the harsh lighting of the room beyond your prison as you could only make out the shadow of his frame and the lit cigar in his mouth. When he opened his eyes, you could see that pinprick of light that told you he was looking your way, but that was it- darkness enveloped you and it only took you a second to recognize a blindfold.

“Hhrrrnng…” you struggled, gasping helplessly at the surge of pain in your shoulder when the one who held you up felt it necessary to press his thumb into the bullet wound. Intimidation at its finest. God, you hated what you’d become. It wasn’t too long ago that you were fresh off the streets. Bright eyed and innocent, looking to score a big scoop and make it big at your new job. You had wanted to seek the truth for the people of Manhattan and yet here you were hiding it in the most selfish of ways. Sans had approached you a few months after your first real story in the paper- a warehouse fire. Something you had thought was a cover up and had been brave enough to admit to in your article. You still didn’t understand why your editor had approved such a story, especially with what happened after, but you guessed it didn’t matter- you hadn’t seen them since and your new editor was much more careful about what they let you write. 

Thinking back once again, you knew that was why Sans had come to you first. He had wanted to know if you were aware of what you’d done. If you actually knew what you’d said or if you were just parroting something you’d heard from above, and, after the whole debacle had gotten cleared up, you were definitely feeling like one bright macaw. You’d only taken the picture, your editor was the one who had fed you the story. Why you hadn’t caught that as a red flag at the time was beyond you, but now it definitely didn’t matter. You were someone else’s little birdy and for all you cared he could make you sing all day long. That wasn’t going to change how you felt about him.

Feelings. 

Your head buzzed from the pain in your wound, the thugs thumb having been removed as they slumped you into what felt like a chair and you could feel your head fall forward on your chest. You were panting, hyperventilating beyond the gag as you tried to stop your head from spinning and get a better grasp on your gag reflex. If it weren’t for the ironically comforting smoke from Sans’ cigar you might have panicked, but it was there which meant so was he- which meant they couldn’t do a damned thing to you. Not that it mattered. Whomever they’d stationed at the docks had damned all over you and there was no going back from that.

“leave us,” his voice was low, dangerous and daring. _Tell him no, challenge him to stay_ , you begged hazily in your own mind, wanting nothing more than to hear the prick who’d thumbed your wound get his ass handed to him. When you heard nothing and then the door clicked as it closed, you let out an annoyed sigh, but counted your blessings and waited in the darkness of your bound and gagged existence for Sans to untie you. Listening carefully, you could barely hear him moving on the fringe of your senses. A rustle of clothing here, the sound of a sole grinding something into the concrete there, and suddenly his breath was on your face. Heavy and acrid with the smell of smoke as he chuckled and tugged the gag free from your mouth.

“ya know? i kinda like seein’ you tied up like this,” his tone made you shudder, but you turned your head away. Screwing up your mouth as you tried to readjust your own jaw and ignore the taste of old blood on your tongue.

“Ha, ha, very funny, wise guy. I’m in stitches right now,” you rolled your eyes beneath the blindfold, sarcasm thick on your words as you struggled against the ropes that still bound your wrists and ankles, “You wanna help me out with these?”

It was bad enough that you couldn’t see what he was doing, but when he started handling you, his bony fingers pressing into the ropes at your wrists as he tugged you forward and mashed his teeth against your mouth, you thought you were wrong to think that you’d be dead in a few hours. No, you were definitely going to die right now. With the way his kiss had surprised you like that, you were sure your heart was about to combust and that you’d be finished before he could even untie the first knot, but he pulled away- giving you a chance to gasp out another painful breath before his dark, husky laugh brought a fresh pounding to your chest.

“sorry, couldn’t help myself, you just look so helpless,” yeah, thanks- you _felt_ helpless, so you guessed the whole tied up and troubled act was doing it for him- totally what you’d had in mind when you went looking to get shot, “i don’t think i need to remind you not to go snoopin’ again, do i?”

You felt him prod your shoulder, eliciting another gasping choke from you as the pain surged again and you slumped forward, your head catching unexpectedly on his shoulder.

“Y-yeah, n-no...I think- I think I learned my lesson,” you panted, eyes shut tight as you rode the wave of agony and were glad when it settled back to an easy throb, “Maybe stop changing guys down there so I can actually do my job the way you want me to, huh? T-this wouldn’t have happened otherwise.”

There was a short pause between your words and his. You could practically feel him smirking down at you as he spoke.

“people die, sweet heart, i can’t control that anymore than you can control trigger happy greenhorns,” he was chuckling again as he freed your wrists of their bindings and brought a hand to the back of your head to lace through your mussed hair and hold you to his shoulder, “shouldn’t have been pussy-footin’ around at night anyways. so that’s on you, sugar.”

Rubbing the soreness of your wrists, you guessed he was right. It was mostly your fault and that was only because you had known better. Even before you packed up your camera and made your way down to the docks you were telling yourself things would have been easier if you’d just gone during the day, but there were always too many bodies hanging around during daylight hours and you’d only wanted to get a couple of shots. You cringed at the ironic thought and shook your head, further burrowing yourself against his shoulder. 

“I’m getting too old for this,” you could feel him rumble another soft laugh beneath you as you sighed, his fingers caressing the back of your head before sliding the blindfold off and exposing your sensitive eyes to the suddenness of light. Blinking a few times, you sat back, flinching again as your shoulder throbbed and your hand was free to rise and grab at it. Letting out a hissing breath, you did your best not to look, turning your head only seeming to aggravate it more, and settled instead for looking at him. He was kneeling now, busy with the ropes at your feet as he ducked his head and his skull glinted with a glow from the harsh lights above. You smiled at this, but pulled your eyes away from him for a moment to see where they’d been keeping you.

The warehouse was old, but the upkeep was obvious. Too obvious. It made you wonder how they’d managed to keep blood out of the concrete floor. Tarps, maybe they used tarps. Glancing around, you don’t see any and you guess that puts you at ease. At least they weren’t planning on killing you before Sans got there.

“there,” you could feel the taut rope around your ankles go slack as he finished with the knot, releasing you completely and allowing you to stand up and walk out of there if you were so inclined.

“You’re an angel, you know that?” but you weren’t, not when he was around. Not when he was involved and kneeling between your legs like that. You almost felt tempted to spread them a bit wider and invite him in, but you resisted. The pain in your shoulder and the obvious turn offs of doing anything inside an open warehouse like this was too wide a step in the wrong direction. So, you satisfied yourself with running a soft hand against his skull, prompting him to rest his chin on your knees and smirk up at you with that half lidded expression that always seemed to turn you to putty in his hands.

“i think you got me confused for someone else, dollface, but i’ll take the compliment and do you one better,” hooking a hand beneath your knees and one, tenderly, against your back he rose to a stand and cradled you against his chest, bridal style, “how’s ‘bout we get you fixed up? wouldn’t want you to lose that cute shoulder of yours. although...i think that wound’s pretty _'armless_.”

Although you were still blushing from his lift, you narrowed your eyes up at him and placed a hand on his chest. Griping his shirt as you held his gaze.

“I got shot today, Sans,” the matter of fact way you said it had him bursting out laughter and shaking his head, causing your heart to lighten in your chest. God, when had you fallen so hard for such a goofy skeleton? It felt like just yesterday that he had you pressed up against an alley wall with a look of threat in his eyes. You guessed the two of you had hit it off after that. That he’d liked the way you looked pitiful and scared beneath him and you liked the way he looked cold and intimidating above you, or something, because after your editor had gone missing he started coming around a lot more, asking for you. You remembered how hard it had been not to want to skip town. You’d lived there your whole life, but Jersey was starting to look a hell of a lot better with him constantly breathing down your neck the way he was. It didn’t take you long to realize that he was breathing with interest. 

He was drunk when it first happened. He kissed you and you could smell harsh liquor on his breath as well as those all too potent cigars he was so keen on smoking. You didn’t know what was happening, you’d never kissed a skeleton before, but he’d helped you figure it out. You could still remember the taste of his tongue as he forced your mouth open and exposed you the way he had. You honestly didn’t even think skeletons had tongues, but he’d proved you wrong.

Magic, he’d laughed. Magic was his answer for everything.

“yeah, i know, it’s a weird thing, that-” he nudged another skeleton kiss against your brow, “gettin’ shot in a mafia territory in the middle of the night. who’da thunk?”

Defeated and tired, you shook your head softly as you relaxed into his hold, the grip you had on his shirt going slack as he tightened his grasp on you and stared down at you in silence. For the briefest of moments you thought that he had changed his mind, that he was intent on letting you die in his arms from the lead leaking poison into your shoulder, but when you looked up at him you could see that that was far from the truth. He looked worried despite his show of teeth and it made you furrow your own brow in concern.

“What?”

“nothin’,” he seemed to relax when you spoke, “thought i’d lost ya for a second there. uh, you ready?”

You nodded, moved by his concern, but confused by what else you thought you’d saw there in those depths. You had to admit you had fallen for him, but there had always been that doubt in your heart about whether or not he had done the same. He seemed to like the ease of your rapport, the way that you so easily submitted to him whenever he pushed himself on you, but you had still yet to figure out if your relationship with him was one of convenience or one of...well, genuine affection. It didn’t keep you up at night, but seeing him look at you the way he had you wondered if it might now.

“hold on tight, sweet heart…” he clutched you to his chest and you burrowed into the crook of his neck, banishing the complicated thoughts to the back of your mind as you felt your body fall away from existence and the two of you shifted through space using one of his back doors. 

Shortcuts, he’d called them, magic. Whatever it was, it always felt as though you were dreaming. Tripping and tumbling as you stumbled through a consciousness you didn’t understand. It made you feel sick every other time you’d traveled with him and unfortunately for you, this was one of those times.

You told yourself you’d get used to it, that you'd be fine, but then you blacked out at some point during the trip. 

Great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd I do??? I'm going to try my best to finish it up on the second chapter, but feel free to let me know if you'd like to see more from this particular section of the Mafiatale universe! I had a few ideas to add more depth to the Reader's character, start from the beginning, maybe throw some drama and plot in there instead of just smut, but we'll see!
> 
> Thanks again for the read~


	2. You're in Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're awake, but where are you? More importantly, where is Sans? And even more importantly...where are your clothes!?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad that so many of you liked the first chapter so I hope this one does it justice in wrapping it all up in a nice, lewd bow. Enjoy~

You’d blacked out.

Yes, you.

Little Miss “try-too-hard-to-get-used-to-the-magic-of-hi-world-only-to-end-up-succumbing-to-it”. Ugh. Smooth.

You don’t remember when it happened, only that it did because the earliest thing you could recall just so happened to be the moment Sans decided to pull that damn bullet from your aching wound. You also remember screaming. Gasping this pitiful cry into the air as stars clouded your vision and then you were gone again. Drifting back into that state of unconsciousness as you felt his hand slip against your cheek and roll your head on what you could only imagine was a table.

Flat and cold as you lay there before exhaustion claimed your mind once more and you became dead to the world.

You couldn’t tell how long you were out that second time, but when you woke you found yourself stirring against a cushion and a wall, your arm asleep from the way you were lying despite your attempt to adjust. Unsurprisingly, your shoulder still hurt, so much so that it was pretty useless when you tried your best to stabilize yourself on it- only to have the pain buckle your elbow and send you face first back into the mattress you were attempting to rise from. Reaching up, you could feel that it had been bandaged and that said bandages were fresh. Not remembering when this might have happened, you lifted your gaze to the rest of the room in hopes that you might, at least, recognize where you were, but no. Looking through the darkness of the room, nothing familiar caught your eye and, through the confusion of it all, you began to feel the discomfort of fear creep slowly into your chest. That's when you remembered.

Sans had helped you.

You heard a noise near the door to the room and your eyes flicked towards the doorway. It was dark, but a faint filtering of light from the hall silhouetted a seemingly snoozing skeleton, sitting back in a chair with his feet propped up against the doorframe. You smiled at his figure there, a warmth replacing the aching creep that had gathered in your chest before rising to your cheeks and dying your skin a scalding pink. As you moved to slip from the bed, you could feel every fold of the fabric against your thighs, every crease against your waist- it didn’t take you long to realize that you weren’t wearing any clothes, that is...except for your bra and panties. Stifling a yelp, you quickly gathered the blanket you’d been sleeping with around your shoulders and tried your best to cover yourself before chancing a second glance at the sleeping Sans. He hadn’t moved an inch aside from the slow rise and fall of his figure as he dozed. 

Good.

Letting out a cautious breath, you struggled with another rise into a sitting position before pausing to test the stability of your feet on the floor. Carefully, you followed through to a stand and took a few short steps towards the door, and Sans, before stopping. Standing there, his blanket wrapped around your naked shoulders and clutched about you haphazardly, you felt almost as if the two of you might have had a one night stand and you were trying to slip away.

Unfortunately for you, he wasn’t allowing it. Even in his sleep he was nothing short of possessive of you. Staring at him, it occurred to you that he was the one who’d likely bandaged your wound. Which meant he was also the one who’d removed your clothes. The thought sent your heart racing as you tried to swallow any sense of embarrassment and accept what might have been a necessary evil. He’d left your underwear on after all, what harm was there in him stripping you of useless bloody clothes? 

Looking a bit closer, your eyes more accustomed to the darkness, you could see that he had changed as well. Now sporting a vest along with his white undershirt and slacks, you figured it had something to do with carrying you and cleaning you up. He probably stained his shirt and had to change before he went out again, but the more you looked at him, the more you could tell that no, that wasn’t the case. You could clearly see a few dark splotches on the sleeve against the sheer white of his button-down. He hadn’t changed at all.

“You bum…” your voice was soft as you mumbled this, your eyes dropping to the tentative rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. In and out. You watched his folded hands breathe with him as he slept and rested them on what would have been his belly if he actually had one beneath all that fabric. An itch drew you even closer, your hand slipping against his as you felt the smooth bone there and traced each individual carpal with your fingers. You glanced up a few times as you touched him, wondering if this was enough to wake him, but when he didn’t move, his breathing the same as it had always been, you were satisfied in thinking he was out.

“What’ve you done to me, sheik?” you find yourself looking at your shoulder while you held onto his hand, slipping your fingers in between his metacarpals and keeping them there, “Spoiled me rotten and now look at me...I can’t keep up.”

You didn’t care if he woke up at this point, you just wanted to be near him. Ever since that first kiss, the two of you had been dancing around the idea of a relationship, or rather, you had been. You knew that you’d said it before, but you still really weren’t sure where the two of you stood with each other.

Did you even want to know?

He seemed to like you, gave you kisses on an almost constant occasion, but nothing had ever really come from that. You were starting to wonder if kissing wasn’t just something he did with people as a familiar greeting. Then, you thought, what if he couldn’t do anything else? The tongue was one thing, magic and all that, but...he was bones. A skeleton. Sure, that might have been obvious enough, but you never really attributed that to who he was as a person. 

Sans was laughter and cigars, booze and jokes and deep, open mouthed kisses behind the speakeasy when you’d both had a little too much to drink. You enjoyed the time you had with him, when you had it with him, but now- now you were starting to wonder if it was okay to ask for more. If it was even safe. You knew who he was. He’d brought you into this world with every intention of being honest about what it was he did. People were dead because of him and it was unlikely that that was going to stop just because you wanted to be a bit more immediate in his life. 

Especially after tonight. Jesus, _you_ nearly died. A few more inches to the left and you’d have been pushing up daisies and feeding the nightcrawlers down below. You weren’t aware of when it happened, but at one point, while you were deep in thought, he’d curled his fingers around yours. A soft gasp escaped your throat when you felt the tickle of his phalanges moving against yours and you lifted your gaze quickly- only to find those bright eye lights staring back at you. You weren’t expecting it. How could you have been? He’d given no inclination that he’d woken up, but there he was. Staring at you while his thumb rolled absently over your knuckles in what you assumed was an effort to comfort you while you zoned out.

How long had he been doing that? How long had he been awake? Oh, God, he didn’t actually hear what you’d said had he?

You lied, you did care if he woke up.

“O-oh, you’re up, I was just-” you raised your free hand to brush a few loose strands from your brow, but flinched in pain when the throbbing returned and you remembered just why it was so free in the first place. 

“don’t do that,” he rumbled, his voice still deep and groggy from sleep. You felt it in his hand as he held you in place, a deep vibration in his bones that moved through you like a growl and kept you from stepping away. Lifting your eyes to meet his, you opened your mouth to respond, but felt silenced as he tugged you forward. Eyes locked with his, you allowed him to pull you up onto his lap. He was careful of your shoulder as he sat you down, draping his arm across your thighs and supporting your lower back with the other. You could feel the protuberance of his hip bone beneath you as you adjusted yourself a bit more comfortably against him, settling, finally, between his legs as he continued to fix you with that long, careful stare.

You didn’t know what to do or where to look, so you just stared back. Still thinking on everything you’d been wondering before. Did he know what he was doing to you? Just the very idea that you were sitting in his lap half naked was enough to make your heart ache, so what was it doing for him? He seemed to be contemplating something as he stared at you. His pupils dilated and soft as he trailed them across your face then down to your shoulder. He ran his hand slowly up your spine, making you visibly shudder, before resting it between your shoulder blades with a soft breath.

“we’ll get you a sling in the mornin’...” was all he said before the two of you fell into silence once more and his hand on your lap began to move against your thigh. At this point, you hardly cared that the blanket wasn’t working to conceal you. The move onto his lap had definitely jostled it enough that your bare thighs were clearly visible and your good shoulder was hanging out the side. You at least tried to keep it tight around your chest, not wanting to give him a complete show, but also wondering what might happen if you threw caution to the wind and let him see everything. He likely already had, seeing as how he was the one to remove your clothing in the first place, but-

“Hhnn-” the tension inside you grew taut as he proceeded to smooth rich circles along your bare skin and scramble your thoughts, eliciting a strange, needy sound from your core that you had every intention of keeping to yourself until his hands started to move again.

He was adjusting you, shifting you gently forward as he sprawled you across his chest and tucked your head beneath his chin before heaving a large sigh that made you sink against him when released.

“better?” you felt his jaw shift against the top of your head as he spoke and it made you smile.

“Yeah,” oh...you used to be so much better with your words, but it seemed this skeleton had stolen them all away. Both figuratively and literally. You wondered what he wanted you to say at that moment. He and his men had been so good at feeding you your lines for so long that when it came time to say something for yourself all you could manage was a placid… _yeah_. You could feel his hand moving again, bringing you back to earth as he shifted cold, scratchy bone against your flesh and tested the buoyancy of your thigh by giving it a tentative squeeze. 

”A-ahn..nn-”

There was that noise again. A needy little gasp that forced its way from your lungs on a plea and a prayer. You wanted him to do more, wanted to feel his hands everywhere, but weren’t exactly sure how to say it- you guessed your body was just doing that for you. When he released your thigh from the squeeze, his hand still tucked against it as he moved, you could feel him adjust his hips beneath your rump, settling you much more firmly against his groin as he let out another breath that sounded more like a guttural groan when you shifted too. You were pressing into him now, your legs still off to one side as your ass ground down against the sudden warmth between his legs. It amused you to think that he, of all people, might have been packing something more than metaphorical ‘heat’, but then again he was a magic skeleton. If you’d asked he’d probably have given you the same response, so you satisfied yourself with the assumption and decided not to waste either of your time.

Cautiously, you let your hands slide against the fabric of his vest as you lifted yourself into a much more upright position and settled against him with your eyes on his. He was different now as he stared at you, those familiar pinpricks of light having been traded for an iris of blue that only seemed to shine in the left socket of his lidded expression. It also seemed to throb as he fixed it on you, glowing that same eerie blue light as it sparked a memory and brought you back to that first kiss you’d shared. His eyes had been closed when it happened, but before you closed yours you could have sworn you saw the same light glinting from beneath the closed socket. Not to mention that same pulsing of light through the tongue that slid into your mouth when he pushed into you.

Was that what his arousal looked like?

You fought a smile, but couldn’t help it. Almost grinning you let out a short huff of laughter and slid your one hand forward to grip his boney cheek, the other you kept still between the two of you. The throbbing in your chest having brought back the throbbing in your shoulder with a vengeance.

“what?” he smirked and the light in his eye seemed to flash with interest.

“Nothing...just thinking,” you watched the way his mouth moved when he spoke, the hint of light from within pushing you closer to him as you brushed a soft whisper of a kiss against his teeth.

“that’s dangerous,” he drawled, his words slow and warning. You weren’t sure if he was referring to your thoughts or your kiss, but you didn’t care. You did it again and his hands moved across your body to hold you against him, deepening the kiss as his hand pressed into your thigh and shifted down to grip your ass while the other slid up to tangle in your hair. You felt a pulse of heat run through you as he held you tightly, his hand on your rear forcing you down against the growing bulge in his slacks. He groaned against your mouth when it happened and you felt like melting in his hands, the sound arousing you more than anything as you opened your mouth against him and gave a testing lick to his teeth. Almost as if on cue, he sighed, opening his maw to accept your tongue with a greedy swipe of his own. 

Light seemed to flow into you as his tongue explored your mouth. It was big, so much bigger than your own, so you could definitely feel the crowding against your teeth when he dipped into you, but it didn’t matter. Inhaling slowly you took in the scent of him, your arm now draped over his shoulder as you locked and unlocked your mouths in what felt like the most intricate of dances. Who knew a skeleton could be such an agile kisser? From what you could remember, he was good before too, but this- this was intense. With his hand still groping your ass, his fingers now sliding past the fabric of your panties as your hips rocked instinctively back to meet him, you moaned, hot and bothered, against his tongue and you could feel him shudder beneath you in response.

“christ--” he cursed softly as you pulled away, pausing for a moment to breath and, if possible, gather your thoughts before going in again. At one point, the blanket had fallen off your shoulders and you’d had half a mind to readjust it, but he was far too observant and far too quick for your sluggish mind to catch up with. You felt it tugged from your back and, in an instant, it was gone, discarded to the floor as you lounged against him in your underwear and bare skin. 

You were both breathing pretty heatedly at that point, your eyes locked on each other as you leaned in again and he muttered your name before practically devouring you once more. It almost felt as though he were trying to stop you, reason with your sober mind as to why you shouldn’t be doing this, but then his teeth found your lower lip and he pulled. Forcing your lips apart so he could claim your mouth once more with his heated tongue. It made you gasp, that needy moan whimpering from your throat as you pushed through the pain in your shoulder and proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck, locking you against his kiss and perpetuating a sense of flush as your bodies mingled atop the chair. Mind crowded, mouth claimed and flesh crying with the need to be touched, you hardly realized you were falling until your back made contact with something solid and your shoulder cried out in protest.

“Mfff-!” you gasped against his mouth, pain muffled by his tongue and teeth before he drew back with a snap and stared down at you with a smirk and a furrowed brow. Gathering yourself through the head trip his kisses had thrown you into, you gripped your injured shoulder tenderly and adjusted your legs beneath him- only to find that the two of you were no longer seated in the doorway. Blinking, you glanced over the side of the bed and could clearly see the chair sitting a few short steps away- knocked over on it’s side, yes, but still, there it was and here you were...in bed. Again. You let your head fall back as you gave it a gentle shake, covering your eyes with a hand as you smiled in amusement and gnawed on the lower lip that he had been tugging at before.

“Too bothered to walk me to bed?”

“heh...bothered isn’t the word i’d use,” you could feel his hands on you again, ghosting over your exposed belly before you felt breath and could feel him pressing that incessant smile to your navel as he ravished your abdomen with those scandalous skeleton kisses, “you okay?”

You gasped and sighed as his teeth slid against your flesh, his tongue lolling out to drag damply against your belly as you swooned and writhed beneath him.

“O-okay isn’t the word I would use,” he chuckled at the echo to your words and the vibration against your abdominals made your breath hitch in your throat before you continued in a breathy whisper, “But it’s a start.”

You could feel him rumble a soft groan of approval against your stomach as he slowly made his way up the length of your body. Kissing the space between your breasts, you could feel his skeletal thumbs tucking beneath the fabric of your bra as he pulled it up and out of the way. Exposing your attentive nipples to his prying gaze and grasping hands as he set to work massaging his carpal-ed palms into the soft flesh there, his tongue lavishing strong strokes of greedy need against the sensitive nubs as you whimpered desperately beneath him.

Focusing more on the right side, his teeth closed around your nipple causing you to flinch against his mouth and arch against the sensation. You moaned his name and he growled against your flesh in response, his eyes closed as he worshiped your captured button with his tongue.

“S-Sans...come on-” you gasped and his hands squeezed your breasts together roughly as though dragging his teeth against your right nipple wasn’t enough to drive you mad. Switching sides, he moved to attentively violate the left mound of your anatomy with harsh strokes of his tongue, causing you to moan and arch lopsidedly into his mouth. Your shoulder was definitely hindering you, but you tried to push past it, your good hand pressing into his skull and stroking lines of encouragement into the calcified bone there. 

In doing so, you found yourself exploring each nook and cranny of his crown. You imagined that each dent held a story of someone else’s demise, but tried to push the morbid thought from your mind. Instead you allowed your fingers to trace the lines where his skull had fused into what it was now before trailing down to brush against the space where his skull ended and his spine began. You felt him flinch beneath your touch as a low groan breathed from his maw, rumbling vibrations against your burning flesh as he released your sensitive point and proceeded to press another series of breathy kisses to your clavicle on his way up to your neck.

You could feel him murmur something soft and unintelligible against your throat before his teeth opened against the flesh there and his exaggerated canines proceeded to bite into you, forcing another lip gnawing hiss to escape your mouth as you fought back a curse and missed whatever it was he had said. It hurt, but compared to the pain in your shoulder it was a good hurt, soothed only by the wet lapping of his tongue as he pulled back and found his way to another tender spot on your good shoulder. He was working himself between your legs at this point, pushing your thighs back against your hips with his hands as he adjusted himself and settled your center, hard, against his pelvis and the aching bulge you could feel growing there. When he bit you again, you cried out in bliss. Unable to contain your noises as his fingers pressed harsh divots into your thighs and the hypersensitivity of your flesh became so much more agonizing.

Sans was marking you. Biting bruises into your neck and shoulder as his fingers painted your thighs with more of the same and his hips ground purposefully into yours. At one point, you felt freedom from the pain of his phalanges as he busied himself with removing what remained of your panties after he tore through the waistline in his eagerness. You gasped at the feel of his tongue lovingly bathing the fresh mark in his heated saliva only to feel something equally as warm and equally as wet rub against your now exposed sex. He pulled away as you glanced down, sitting back as he adjusted what you saw to be a very big, very blue, jock piece against your mound.

You didn’t say anything at first, didn’t really know what to say. All you could do was stare as he pushed what was very obviously a conjured magical cock against your aching entrance with his thumb. Without pausing he pushed into you, causing you to flinch at the feel of him stretching you, the head much bigger than anything you’d ever taken before and the sensation of it sending searing shivers throughout the rest of your body. He stopped as soon as the head found purchase and you lifted your gaze to find that he was staring at you.

Waiting with that same concerned expression that would definitely start to keep you up at night.

”Is this-” you huffed in question, pausing only when you felt it throb and the blazing heat of pre dribbled out to coat your lewd hole, you bit your lip and felt your face grow warm, “-another one of your magic tricks?”

He smirked and you could feel him shake as he chuckled softly and pushed a bit more meaningfully into you, as if he were trying to reassure you that it was indeed real.

“somethin’ like that,” you gasped at how easily he spread you. His girth piercing your depths and filling you in one painfully stretching stroke even as he leaned over you and pressed a nuzzling kiss to your brow, “mmmhh- i wouldn’t call it a trick, but magic is the e-easiest way to explain it...yeah.”

You shivered against the heat that seemed to radiate from his rod, but felt yourself confused when you’d realized he’d...stopped. Panting, you looked up at him, staring into his socket at that one pulsing, glinting eye as it seemed to search your face for a reaction. Was he teasing you?

“S-Sans…,” you felt your breath escape you on a low rumble and realized a little too late that it had come off more like a warning growl and less like a sexy purr, as you had originally intended, “D...don’t stop-”

Feeling as full as you did, with him stuffing you the way that he was, you wondered if he’d take offense to your seemingly aggresive command, but his dismissive laugh and the short shake of his head was enough to tell you that that wasn't an issue. No, he wasn’t intending to punish you, not at all. As you stared up at him, your body aching for some sort of release, you got the impression that he was waiting for something. You involuntarily flinched when he twitched his cock, pulsing the length against your folds and stretching you even further. The sudden action made you cry out on a shuddering whine, the sound that left your panting maw one of pleasure and momentary pain. Keeping your eyes steady with his despite your blurring vision, he gave you what could have only been interpreted as a knowing stare, his brow arching as his smile deepened and your face flushed with understanding.

Oh...he was acclimating you.

He twitched his length again and you couldn’t help but moan. A deep, needy rumble that had your hand reaching up to clutch the fabric of his shirt against his ribcage as he leaned down to capture your mouth beneath his teeth once more. Pressing tenderly against you, you opened your lips to his waiting tongue and felt that now familiar surge of heat slip into you as another spurt of precum proceeded to coat your interior and further ease his passage deep against your cervix. He had done it. Stretched and readied you for the weight of his thrusts as his tip kissed your barred entrance and sent another involuntary roll of your hips pressing up into his. As deep as he was, you know you wanted him deeper, but that would have to wait.

The mobster was working.

He pulled out, the swiftness of him abandoning your center leaving you feeling cold and empty as you waited for him to return. When he didn’t you sighed and he tightened his hold on your hips, adjusting you again as he propped your legs up against his shoulders and left your feet and ankles to hook behind his neck. There was something about the way he so effortlessly handled you that made your heart swell and your womb ache, but you figured that feeling could have just been your own anticipation for his next thrust so you tried not to think too deeply into its meaning. With your lower back and rump suspended above the sheets of the mattress beneath you, you bit your lip and contemplated the feel of his pre burning through the walls of your center and forcing an erogenous tingle throughout the rest of your body.

So, this was what it felt like to use magic as lube. You groaned and felt your eyes lid through the dizzying spell it seemed to be putting you under making you grip the sheets for some sort of stability. How long would you be able to take this before you became addicted? Is that something you’d have to worry about? Was this how monsters claimed their mates? Fuck, why were you thinking about that now- you really needed to stop reading too far into things- oh, stars, your head was spinning.

“i got you, sweet heart,” his words brought you back to the here and now, his eyes narrowing softly as he stared down to where his tip was nudging back against your waiting lips in an attempt to re-enter, “just try not to think so much.”

“And how would you know what I’m thinking?” you teased breathily, eyes fixating on him through the haze of your arousal. It was almost as if he knew what was going through your head and, by the looks of these newly discovered abilities of his, you felt as though you honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he actually could read minds. That would explain a lot, but no. He was chuckling again, his thumbs rubbing those soft, almost loving, circles into your thighs.

“easy...i can read you like a book,” again, you saw it again. That look on his face as he stared down at you, the look that made you feel as though he had so much more to say. But, of course, he didn’t. He just dropped his gaze and closed his eyes as he pushed, once more, into your cunt. Biting your tongue, you closed your eyes with him and rocked against his push, helping him to spread your slick folds once more as he filled you and made you feel whole again.

“H-haah…so b-big…” more words failed you, reducing you to a panting, writhing, mass of human beneath him as he stroked through you. With each thrust, he left you feeling empty and whole, complete and abandoned- with each thrust, you found yourself gasping his name and looking up at him as if waiting for him to give you your lines. What did he want you to say? He was your words and your world and, in that moment, you even forgot who you were as everything that made you an individual belonged to him.

 _You_ belonged to him.

He hilted against your womb again, pausing in his thrusts with a few groans of his own and an attempt not to finish so soon. The thickness of his member swelled and throbbed against your folds as the two of you breathed against the other. His mouth found yours as he paused, teeth gnawing your lower lip as his tongue lapped to soothe away the sting. It made you whimper to have him so close, filling you as he was, loving you...as it seemed. It was almost like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you, satisfied to rest inside you with the warmth of your heart beating throbs of pleasure against his cock instead of sensibly pulling out to wait for the sensation of completion to pass.

It made you think, again, that there was something more to this spontaneous moment of eroticism- that it hadn’t just been in his head to bed you at your weakest as so many of the other men in your life might have. You smiled at the thought. Even if it was wrong, even if he was just using you and your romanticizing of his actions wasn’t just another shot in the dark, in that moment you wanted to believe it so you did. His hips moved against yours as your mouths remained interlocked. Forcing soft, muffled moans from your mouth into his as he picked up speed and rutted against your dripping, aching, sex. You pulled back for a moment to breathe, gasping a muttered warning of your nearing completion, and heard the release from him before you felt it explode like a breaking dam against your hyper sensitive walls. His load was hot and thick, coating you internally and breaking through to dribble into your womb as he pushed and pushed his way as deep as he could into your waiting cavity.

You came as he did, your body tightening around him as he pulsed spurt after spurt of searing spunk into your cunt. Instinctively, your tunnel milked him and you moaned. The orgasm shared between you both seeming to last for a lifetime before he collapsed forward on his bony arms and you lay beneath him as a shuddering, shivering mess. You both panted heavily and you could feel his member ebbing away, leaving his magical seed to seep freely from your pleasantly fucked hole. You found yourself immaturely wishing it’d just stay inside, the warmth from the flood of his release providing you with a sense of contentedness as you unhooked your legs from around his shoulders and allowed them to tuck unceremoniously on either side of his body. Cautiously, you raised a hand and cupped his cheek, coaxing him to open his eyes and look at you. He was cold as he often was, sweating as he did despite not having any pores to speak of, and, when he did look up, his eye lights were back. Smoldering pinpricks of light that traced the outline of your lips as you smiled up at him in satisfied bliss.

It wasn’t until that euphoria had subsided that you started to feel the downside to your excursion. Hot, throbbing pain emanated from your bullet wound, reminding you how you’d ended up in his bed in the first place and prompting you to roll your eyes as if to say _‘I knew this was coming’._

Sans seemed to read your expression as he pressed his brow against yours, sighing as he closed his eyes before speaking in a low, careful voice.

“does it hurt?”

You paused before speaking, staring up at the closeness of his face and fighting with yourself not to start up with another round of tender kisses.

“Yeah,” there it was again, your inability to words.

“mmm…”

He seemed to be suffering from the same lack of diction as the two of you relaxed in silence and your breathing returned to normal.

“Does it look...bad?”

He opened one eye and gave your shoulder a sidelong glance before closing it with a tweaking smirk that made your head feel light.

“no…” you sighed in relief only to have him stop you mid-celebration, “it looks horrible.”

Flinching, you turned your head almost instantly, knocking into his skull and forcing another sharp throb of agony to pulse from your shoulder as you struggled to see that, yes- he was right. It did look horrible. The once clean bandage was completely soaked through and it looked as though you had been pooling in your own blood for a while as the entire spot on the mattress within 5 inches of your shoulder was stained with the same dark liquid.

“I-I thought you said it wasn’t bad!”

“ow,” he rubbed his brow as he sat up a bit, still hovering over you with one arm supporting him as he laughed, “i didn’t say it was bad...i said it was horrible.”

You groaned in frustration and lay back, your head spinning from what you could now recognize as blood loss, and having smacked your head into hard calcified bone, not the euphoric tingle of attraction and love that you had assumed it was before. Putting your one good hand to your head, you closed your eyes and tried to ignore the throbbing in your shoulder.

“hey, don’t worry, doll face,” he was nudging you again, pressing his teeth against your mouth softly as he rumbled against you and you found yourself opening your eyes to another spine tingling smirk, “’m sure if we put our _heads_ together we’ll _come_ to the best solution.”

You blinked in silence, staring up at him as his smile widened and you could practically feel the pride welling up inside of him.

“Get off me, ugh,” you laughed and he chuckled when you tried to push him away with your one good arm. Failing, you let your arm fall above your head and he kissed you again, “You should have just left me to die at the warehouse- I dunno how I’m ever gonna be able to survive these jokes of yours.”

“nah…” he brushed his knuckles against your cheek and the atmosphere seemed to shift, “i wouldn’t do that.”

Nothing, but silence and tension hung between you after that. The air thick with words that were doomed to go unsaid as you thought about telling him how you felt only to come to the conclusion that now really wasn’t the best time. Your shoulder was killing you and unless you wanted no other choice than to have your confession be your final words you needed to stifle it and get your ass to a certified medic.

“U-uhm...my arm’s really starting to lose feeling now,” you stammered, blushing as you clutched his hand and removed it from your face, “As much as I love your attempt at playing doctor, I think I’m gonna need to see someone with a degree.”

Sans seemed caught off guard by the sudden change of direction, but he refocused himself with ease before crawling off of you and sitting at the edge of the bed.

“right,” he hid his face from you as he rose, his stance appearing standoffish as he readjusted his pants and suspenders before making his way towards the toppled chair at the door, “lemme grab you somethin’ to wear and we’ll pay good ol’ alphy a visit...i’m sure she’s got a degree in somethin’.”

You sat up as best as you could and watched him replace the chair at the door before disappearing through the frame. Watching him go, you found yourself sighing as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed and let your feet dangle as you sat. Clutching your arms around you as you sat, the blood from your wound seeping down to tickle the skin of your arm, you waited for him to return and hoped you weren’t wrong in thinking that he had something more to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! The final chapter to this short fic about falling in love with a monster mobster and wondering what that's supposed to mean for the rest of your life. I enjoyed writing this so much I'm probably gonna start from the beginning and write out how they met and all the fun times in between then and now! But I'll have to see what my schedule for work is gonna be like before I give it a go!
> 
> Thanks again for all your encouragement, I look forward to writing more~

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Graveyard Shift](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15442623) by [font_romantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/font_romantic/pseuds/font_romantic)




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